False Start
by MartyrForSuicide
Summary: AU Drugs are always a mask for something...yet this boy skips through the lives of those around him, evading answering their questions, gaining their friendship and love, and disappearing without ever saying goodbye. FALSE START-the momentum doesn't care


NOTE: this shall be the oddest chapter story ever...it's 6:08 in the morning and i have not. slept. at. all. not good... anyways! this chapter is from sasuke's point of view, it's a sort of prologue i suppose (the next chapter or two will be his also then it'll move onto other characters which will act as the back background story) it's a sasunaru as all my stuff is...and emo, as much as my stuff is...I CAN'T ESCAPE IT!!! and the lack of sleep is affecting me braaaaiiiiin. i take my leave now!

Disclaimer: i. own. nothings.

Warning: drugs (lotsa drugs), gayness (look we all know gayness resides in all male naruto characters, there shall be no disagreement!)

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**False Start**

part one assumptions

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twisted lyrics mixed with smudged eyeliner and s-l-e-e-p-l-e-s-s nights.

voices screaming, crying of razorblades and roses echoed in the pitch black club. the too loud sounds of basses screeching, guitars and drums vibrated the floorboards, seats and tables, people. bodies convulsed to the far, far too loud music, strobe lights tricking the scene into seizing figures that thrashed with eyes closed, disregarding connection to reality and living in the pulsing sounds.

why you come here doesn't matter the moment you enter the door.

i can't even remember why i'm here, bloody, bloody lyrics washing away what forced me to this haven.

and i guess, that's the reason i escape to places like these, they rob me of myself, i'm left hollow, a mannequin, a puppet whose binding strings have been released and i can taste f r e e d o m.

it's bittersweet taste; it's a drug like seduction really.

but…this isn't real. this isn't reality; it doesn't exist in the **real world**.

it never has, it never will.

because it's unspoken of, even _lies_ refuse to pass the lips of those here.

i live my days for

this.

the music's calling me, as it so often does, telling me to throw away my thoughts. i dance without thinking; after all, that's what you're supposed to do…its better that way. let the beat of the music seize my abandoned puppet strings, not like i could handle f r e e d o m.

not many of us can.

by now, the few,slowminutes it has been, i've emptied small glasses and left them wherever i stood at the moment. that's how it goes. the clear liquid seared my throat, but it was warm, comforting…

like being held by someone who cares for you.

i dance by myself, alcohol enough to keep me from being lonely, lost.

the bodies around me move with violent motions, their way of yelling i suppose.

i let my own thrashes create themselves. subdued compared to those around me.

reflecting

my silent

screaming.

one day, i'll go too far and i'll unleash the self-destruction craving to be let go, to ravage me.

the monster it is.

It will hurt me, but for now I can forget that ticking clocking,

c

o

u

n

t

i

n

g

d

o

w

n

to what may be labeled my **demise**.

…it's all in my head and the desperation to cover it up with imagination ends up with a m_u_l_t_i_c_o_l_o_r_e_d_ pill in my hand and down my throat chased by some unknown drink.

and it's relaxation.

ican'teventhinkanymore…

music pounding louder and louder. lights blinding me and i can only see the bodies around me when they flash off. and even then they're a mystery.

they're _elusive_, the _unknown_.

b r o k e n s o u l s

trying to heal the wounds inflicted by the shattered promises. the promise of another path. the promise of another life that was _taken_ from them taken before they even had a chance to begin.

these are the hopeless, the **broken**.

sheltered by this haven of unintelligible music and blinding lights that leave gleaming circles of white dotting visions. the people who come here spend their days until late afternoons in dark bedrooms buried in sheets and dirty clothes with curtains sloppily closed. exhaustion reigns, movements are always languid until…until they return to the club. until freedom is granted and thoughts are ignored.

but who am i to judge?

i'm one of them.

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A/N: please respond, i want to know if i should continue or if you guys are annoyed by th elayout, or if you like it. please take a minute to leave me a review!

luvs, mfs (see i told you lack of sleep affects my thinking!!!)


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